


SRO

by sanidine



Series: Flat Broke Down Life [2]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Age Difference, Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Biting, Come as Lube, Dubious Ethics, Extremely Dubious Consent, First Time, Hand Jobs, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Power Imbalance, Rough Sex, Slapping, Touch-Starved, Unsafe Sex, Victim Blaming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-20
Updated: 2016-04-20
Packaged: 2018-06-03 11:56:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6609802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanidine/pseuds/sanidine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shane has had his concerns about Daryl Dixon ever since he caught wind of a particularly nasty rumor. When the weather takes a bad turn at the end of a school day, Shane’s suspicion proves to be correct.</p><p>(aka the time that Daryl managed to find his courage enough to try and make a move on an officer, but that officer wasn't Rick Grimes. )</p>
            </blockquote>





	SRO

**Author's Note:**

> 'Get Lonely' was originally intended as a one shot and now this has turned into a three part series. Someone help me because I cannot help myself.
> 
> I almost never feel bad about the things I write but the working title for this one was "everything is sad and bad." So, uh, please mind the tags.

Shane was certain that being assigned as a School Resource Officer was meant to be penance, not only for his previous sins but for all of future sins as well.

He hadn’t made a fuss about it when Lieutenant Hobbes had voluntold him to take the position as an SRO. It would only be for one year - the school was scrambling to fill the position since the guy that had been lined up had quit without notice. Hobbes thought Shane would be a good fit for the position, something about him being a more relatable role model  since he was younger than most the department. 

Shane had figured that it would be easy - all he had to do was make sure the students didn't stab each other or vandalize the principal’s car or blatantly sell weed in the hallways. As it turned out, it  _ was _ easy. Easy enough that there wasn't fuck all to keep him entertained. Shane had never thought that he'd miss tackling meth heads outside the Family Dollar at two a.m. but spending all his time at a high school was really making him long for the good old days. 

He’d had Officer Ibanez bring Gunner the drug dog through again and again and again, until the little assholes finally got the message and kept their shit off school property. It thinned the herd of troublemakers pretty well, and there was more than one ankle monitor in the hallways that was a direct result of his doing. Shane would also do one on one sessions with the kids that the guidance counselors had concerns about, but mostly his job was just to stand in the hallways and make his presence felt. 

Fine. 

But Shane could only flirt with the hot math teacher so many times. And then there were the goddamn freshman girls who kept giggling behind their hands and asking him which shade of lipstick he thought looked better on them, which was just. Ugh.

Watching all the kids was like a sneak peak preview into the junkies and prostitutes that Shane would be arresting in a few years time. Thank fuck the school year was almost over.

Shane could remember being in high school and feeling like he was king shit of turd mountain, but from the other side it's just plain hilarious to watch. It's amazing, the type of stuff the students say to each other in the hallways while Shane is standing right there. In uniform. They must either think that he's deaf or stupid, or maybe they just forget that he exists when they aren't thinking about him. Shane is able to keep a pretty good pulse on what is happening or going to happen in the school just by standing around listening. 

(One time Shane was lying in wait to break up a fight before it even gets started, and it earned him a reputation as some kind of psychic. Which somehow seemed more plausible  to them than the truth, which is that every student had been talking - at full volume and in the hallway - about how Joey and Marcus planning to fight in the courtyard after school.)

Still, most of what he hears is just dumb gossip. Rumors that burn bright for a week or two before flaring out. The hunger for gossip in the heart of a high schooler knew no bounds, and they always moved on to the next thing in due time. Who was fucking who, who had gotten knocked up, whatever the fuck it was they were talking about. For the most part it was all the same. 

Shane never put much stock in the rumors he heard the students chatting about in the halls, but. Some things he remembered.

\---

It went from sprinkling to pouring rain half way through the last class period. The weather is bad enough that the principal goes on the intercom to cancel after school activities and remind everyone that drove to use extra caution on the way home. A couple hours later Shane had finished the stack of paperwork that he'd been putting off for weeks, but the thunderstorm is still in full swing. Looking out the window he could see the rain pouring down, the trees whipping in the wind. But Shane didn't want to spend any more time in the school than he had to, so he bit the bullet and got damp running out to his truck.

There was one student still sitting at the Pick Up/Drop Off loop, and when Shane saw who it is he had to fight back a sigh. 

Shane knew that Daryl Dixon usually drove to school - he always had Officer Ibanez take Gunner on a few extra loops around the parking lot specifically to check Dixon’s old rustbucket of a truck. (Never found anything, but Shane has had enough run-ins with his older brother to know that it's just a matter of time.) So, Dixon usually drives. But there he is, lurking on a bench waiting for the rain to stop. Maybe Dixon’s truck broke down and he was too lazy to fix it, maybe his dad got tired of his shitty attitude and revoked his driving privilege, maybe the kid had just decided to walk that morning and was now regretting that particular decision.

Whatever. It didn't really make a difference. Because one way or another, Shane wasn't going to leave Dixon alone on school property.  That kid would destroy something as soon as all the adults had turned their backs, and then Shane would have even more paperwork to deal with. 

Dixon was kind of curled up on the bench, hunched in on himself with his head resting on his knees, and he didn't look up when Shane pulled through the loop and came to a stop across from him. Shane rolled down the passenger side window, had to shout to make himself heard over the rain.

“Need a lift?”

“Fuck off.” Dixon still hadn't bothered to look up. Shane felt his blood run hot.

“ ‘Fuck off’? How ‘bout you step back and try that one again.”

That time Dixon did look up. Shane could see the exact moment that Dixon recognized who he’s talking to, the way he went little green around the gills but knew better than to try and make excuses. Good.

“Don't need yer help.” Seemed like Daryl Dixon didn't know how to apologize any more than he knew good manners, but the way he curled further into himself was good enough for Shane. 

“It's gonna rain all night, and you can't stay on school property after dark.” Shane was starting to get sick of yelling over the storm “So get in the fuckin’ truck.”

Dixon looked up at that, not shocked by the profanity as much as he seemed used to following direct orders without complaint. So he got in the truck. The inside of the vehicle smelled wet, fresh rain and new clay, and Dixon was shivering a little bit. The kid didn't own a shirt with sleeves, much less a jacket, and his clothes were damp enough to look uncomfortable. (Shane was pretty sure he even recognized the shirt Dixon was wearing - grey, logo from a demolition derby in the next county, worn thin with holes all along the hem - Merle Dixon had been wearing the same shirt when Shane had thrown Merle in the drunk tank a few years before.)

Shane switched the heat on and went to shift into drive except

“Put yer damn seatbelt on.” Shane snapped. Dixon did what he was told, kept his body turned away from Shane to look out the window as he muttered something under his breath that Shane couldn't quite catch.

“I'm not going out of my way for you.” Shane said as he pulled the truck out onto the road “I’ll take you as far as my place, but you're walkin’ the rest of the way.”

Dixon just nodded, didn't try to argue. At least this Dixon knew when to keep his fool mouth shut, unlike his older brother. There were old bruises that were fading out around Dixon’s left eye, curling yellow and green across the side of his face and down to his jaw. Shane wasn't at all surprised by the evidence that Daryl Dixon was a troublemaker. He was well known for always starting shit, getting into fights. Everyone in that family was cut from the same bad cloth.

The rain didn’t let up any in the ten minutes it took Shane to drive home.  Shane caught the look that flickered across Dixon’s face as he pulled into the garage - Dixon just looked so goddamn  _ bleak _ that Shane almost felt bad for him. Then a flash of light backlight the truck and threw crazy shadows across everything in the garage as a bolt of lightning struck nearby. The thunder tore the sky apart not a second later in a roaring boom that had Dixon flinching violently, and Shane knew he couldn't force Dixon to walk home in the dangerous weather conditions.

“You're gonna wait here ‘til the weather clears up.” Shane said, telling instead of asking. Dixon just nodded, hands fidgeting on his lap as Shane continued. “I'll let you use my phone, if you gotta call your old man and tell him you'll be late.”

“Phone’s off.” Dixon replied, scowling down at his knees and not looking at Shane. 

Which was not all that surprising, knowing what Shane knew about his family. Communication to the outside world was nowhere near as important as drugs and booze - the Dixons had their priorities figured out, alright.

“Fine.” Shane stepped down out of his truck, stretching a little. The air in the garage was warm and muggy, even with the rain. “I'll leave the door up so you c’n get some fresh air. Head out whenever you want once the rain lets up.”

Shane headed to the door that connected the garage to his house, looking back over his shoulder to where Dixon was standing awkwardly with his hands shoved in his pockets.

“And don't you touch any of my tools, Dixon. I'll know if you fuck with my workbench.

“Yessir.”

Shane went inside, closing the door behind him and blocking Dixon out on the other side of it. Dixons weren't all that bright - Daryl would probably head out into the storm as soon as Shane turned his back, but at least Shane had made his attempt. He kicked off his boots, snagged a beer from the fridge, and didn't think any more about Daryl Dixon. Not until an hour (and three more beers) later, when Shane had to go out to the garage to get another six pack.

It was still pounding rain, and Dixon was still there. He'd sat on the bare concrete with his back against the wall, scraping the dirt out from under his fingernails with a folding buck knife that Shane hadn’t seen before. Dixon looked up when Shane came through the door, and the kid must have seen something on Shane's face because he was suddenly scrambling to his feet

“I can. Um. I'll go” Dixon stuttered but didn't actually move to leave, pinned in place by Shane's harsh gaze.

“That your knife?”

“Yeah.”

It seemed like Dixon didn't quite get the implication at first, so Shane waited until he saw realization hit before he said

“Carry that to school again and I won't even bother with gettin’ you expelled. I'll just arrest you flat out. You're old enough to do real time now, aren't you?”

Dixon just nodded, with a mulish set to his jaw that Shane didn’t care for. The kid looked down and fidgeted with the knife for a few seconds until he finally tucked it back into his pocket.

“Got somethin’ to say?” Shane prodded. Dixon grit his teeth, shoulders hunching up as he curled into himself before he replied

“Won't bring it no more.”

“Good.” Shane finally wandered over to the small fridge that was tucked beside the workbench. 

Dixon looked a little young, but that was mostly just because all his hair had been buzzed off and was just starting to grow back. Probably on account of him getting lice again. It made him look younger for sure, but there was no way that Dixon hadn’t been held back at least a couple of years. Kid had to be at least nineteen, twenty years old. Still, Shane only grabbed one beer from the little fridge - no way was he giving booze to a student, even after hours and off of school property. Fortunately for Dixon, Shane had just enough of a buzz on that he was feeling charitable, looked over his shoulder to where the kid was sulking against the wall to ask

“You want a Coke?”

Dixon just looked at him, eyes going wide when Shane pitched the can to Dixon underhand before he could respond. Shane closed the fridge and cracked open his own beer, leaning back against his workbench and watching as Dixon took a cautious sip of the soda.

“What, not even a thank you?”

“Thanks.” Dixon muttered, and Shane watched as he took two more slow sips of the Coke before chugging the whole thing. 

Shane laughed and tossed him another one, pleased with the way that the tips of Dixon’s ears went bright red. A couple minutes passed in easy silence as Shane drank his beer and watched the rain that was still sheeting down outside the open garage door. It was almost serene, even with Dixon twitching on the other side of the garage like a nervy cat. Shane had always liked the rain, the way that the water got the whole world clean. He took deep breaths of the cool damp breeze, the crisp smell of ozone, and the perfume from the jasmine plants that ran wild along the side of the house. When he finished off the beer, Shane crushed the can against the wood of his workbench and tossed the crumpled aluminum in the garbage barrel before he snagged the rest of the six pack from the mini fridge.

He wasn't thinking about anything other than how he was going to have to run to the store the next day as he started to head back inside. Then he noticed that Dixon was standing much closer than he had been before, fiddling with the pop tab on the Coke can, only looking at Shane out of the corner of his eye as he muttered.

“You want me t’go?”

Shane shook his head. “Told ya you could stay ‘til the storm let up, didn't I?”

Dixon just nodded, finally breaking the pop tab off and worrying it between his fingers. Shane was reaching for the doorknob when Dixon spoke up again.

“O-Officer Walsh?”

“Yes, Dixon.” Shane was starting to get tired of this. The football game was due to start up in a couple minutes, and if Dixon didn't get to the fucking point soon Shane was just going to go inside and lock the door behind him. He didn’t think anything Daryl Dixon had to say could be that important, until

“I'm. Real grateful, to you. For the ride and the drinks and for you lettin’ me wait here. I'm not sure how I'm gonna pay you back.”

It was the most words that Shane had ever heard Dixon string together at one time. He narrowed his eyes as he looked down at Dixon

“Not sure I get your meaning, there.”

“Is there… is there anything I could do, maybe? Anything you'd want?” 

Then Dixon looked up at Shane from under his eyelashes, wrapped his arms around his middle as he curled in on himself a little bit. Like he was shy. Pretending to be sweet. Trying to sand down the rough edges, as if that would trick Shane into thinking Dixon was anything other than what he was. Shane wasn't fooled, but he couldn’t deny the effect it had on him. The cop felt his fingers tighten on the plastic noose on the remainder of his beers, the rounded edges digging into his skin before he set them down on the floor, heart picking up speed.

Shane reached out with his free hand to tap the button on the wall, and the overhead light flipped on as the garage door started to rumble down the tracks. Dixon flinched when the chain squealed a little bit, looked cautiously back to Shane, and Shane slowly grinned back at Dixon. The kid was close enough that Shane could reach out and touch his jaw, run a thumb along his cheek where there was just a hint of soft stubble.

“C’mere.”

\---

Shane never put much stock in the rumors he overheard at the high school, but some things he remembered.

He remembered the gossip that had spread about Dixon a few months back for two reasons. One, knowing what he knew about the kid it wasn't that far outside the realm of believability. Two, because the other purportedly involved party was a cop Shane had the rare chance to track down and either verify or debunk the rumor.

He had waited until the next time Rick and Lori invited him over for supper, knowing that his old partner would be a reliable source of info. After the burgers had been grilled and eaten, Lori went to go wash the ketchup off of Carl's face and grabby toddler hands while Shane and Rick were sat out on the back porch. They were just bullshitting, drinking beer and enjoying the mild weather. Only then had Shane leaned back in his chair and asked

“Heard that Dixon kid got pulled over last week?” Shane said, pitching it half way between a statement and a question. It had been more like a month since the rumor had started, but it didn’t hurt to play dumb and let Rick fill him in on the real details. That, and some part of Shane knew it might seem suspicious if he seemed too knowledge about something that hadn’t involved him at all.

(It wasn’t that he'd taken a special interest in Dixon Dixon. Shane might have watched the kid a little more closely than the others, but that was just because Dixon was so clearly going to be a problem one day. The bruises that he sported to class it was clear that Dixon was either picking fights off of school grounds, or raising hell and getting on the wrong side of his father. Making trouble for everyone. But Shane told himself that he was only interested in the rumor because it involved an unknown police officer, and Shane… Shane just wanted to make sure that no one on the force was going to get into trouble for abusing their privileges.)

Rick didn't say anything at first, picking at the label on his beer bottle and looking sad all of a sudden. Then, finally “Where'd you hear that?”

“At the school. Kids pickin’ on him, you know.”

Rick shook his head “I pulled him over for running a stop sign, just let him go with a warning. Boy’s got it hard enough as is.”

Shane had just taken another sip of beer and changed the subject. If Shane would have known that it was Rick who had pulled Dixon over, he would have discounted the rumor from the outset. 

Rick Grimes was the last person who would want to trade sexual favors with a kid like Dixon. Shane and Rick had been partners before Shane's temporary assignment as an SRO, and they would probably be put back with one another after his stint wrangling high schoolers was complete. Rick was a good guy, happily married, head over heels for his wife and little boy. He was also, well. A bit of a boy scout. Soft hearted. Not that there was anything wrong with that, but Shane sometimes wondered if Rick wasn't a little bit naive.

Shit, when Shane had told Rick about the SRO gig Rick had just beamed at him and clapped Shane on the shoulder. Said that it was good of him, that Shane could really help the students and  _ make a difference _ in their lives. Rick always tried to see the good in people. Even when there wasn't any.

Shane, on the other hand. Well. Shane wasn't much for the benefit of the doubt.

Gossip, like the whispers that had spread about Daryl Dixon... even if the exact rumor turned out to be false, Shane found that it usually had some basis in fact. Teenagers were mean, sure, but Dixon had to have a history if the entire student body could concede that fucking for favors was a thing that he would do. The kid had gotten lucky getting pulled over by Rick, who was a nice guy that believed in second chances. But what would have happened if a different officer had pulled over the youngest Dixon? Maybe it had happened before.

People wouldn't say stuff like that about Dixon unless he had given them some reason to think that about him.

\---

Shane didn't bother taking Dixon into the house, just directed him a few steps backward with the hand that was holding Dixon’s jaw until he was backed up against the plywood sheeting on the garage wall. Dixon had his eyes closed and he was breathing hard, shaking like a leaf as Shane closed the distance between them. Shane thought for a second that he might have fucked up and misread the situation, but the way that Dixon pressed back against him banished any doubt from his mind.

Hell, by the feel of things Dixon had already gotten hard. Just from that little bit of contact. Shane had to hide a grin as he shushed Dixon, trying to get him to relax, and Shane moved his hand away from Dixon’s jaw to stroke his thumb along the curve of Dixon skull behind his ear. He hummed a little as he rubbed his fingers over the fine, baby-soft hair that had grown back in since the buzzcut. Dixon whimpered at that, turned his head into Shane's petting and Shane leaned down to press his forehead to Dixon’s, murmuring

“This is what you wanted, yeah?”

Dixon nodded, knocking their heads together a little as he pressed forward again, as if he could get any closer to Shane's body, get a little more attention. Shane could feel the way that Dixon’s body was trembling where they were pressed together - chests, thighs, hips. 

“Didn't quite catch that. C’mon, Dixon. Wanna hear you say it.”

Dixon’s ears went red, but at least that got him to look up at Shane for a second before his eyes cut back down again and he whispered “Yeah.”

Both of Dixon’s arms were pressed back against the wall, and Shane could see where his hands had clenched into nervous, white knuckles fists. Shane grinned down at him.With one hand still stroking Dixon’s head, soothing, Shane snuck the other one up under the baggy grey shirt. He skimmed his fingertips across Dixon’s belly, eliciting a strangled gasp. Then both of Dixon’s hands shot out, quick as snakes, to clamp down around Shane's wrist and hold it in place, preventing Shane from pulling his shirt off.

There was one stunned second where all the air seemed to go out of the room. Shane looked up from where Dixon was holding his wrist and Dixon met his stony gaze, eyes wide and desperate. Scowling, Shane used the hand that had been petting to slap Dixon on the side of the head. Not trying to hurt the guy, just. Knock some sense back into him.

“Don't be such a shit. I'm trying to be fuckin’ nice to you here.”

Dixon flinched, looked down.

“Sorry.” whispered so softly that Shane could have thought he had imagined it if he wasn't close enough to feel Dixon’s breath, the rumbling vibrations in his throat as he said, again “ ‘m sorry.”

Shane grunted, accepting the apology, but Dixon still wouldn't let go of his wrist. Shane had fisted a big handful of the shirt in his grasp, stretching it out and making the thin material pull tight across Dixon’s neck and shoulders, but the kid still was still holding firm. Stopping Shane from doing what he wanted to do.

“What the fuck, Dixon. Thought you said you wanted this.”

“I do. I just. Lemme keep it on.  _ Please _ .”

Shane huffed out a breath but he let go of the fabric, letting the hem drift back down, and Dixon finally released his wrist. Shane was annoyed, but he was still tipsy and turned on and it wasn't like not getting to undress Dixon was that big of a loss. Probably wasn't much to look at, anyways. Didn't need to get his shirt off to move this along.

“Bet you let me take these off though.” Shane grinned, showing his teeth as his fingers hooked into the waistband of Dixon’s jeans, thumb flicking against the button and the top of the zipper. He felt Dixon’s breath quicken, the way his hips hitched forward.  “Tha’s what I thought.”

When Shane pulled the zipper down Dixon surged forward to kiss him, and Shane started to get into it for about a second until Dixon’s teeth knocked against his the second time. Dixon’s lips were sticky sweet from the Coke, dripping wet with too much spit, and he was really just jamming their mouths together. Shane grimaced and pulled back, even as he palmed Dixon’s hard cock through his breifs. Dixon gasped and shivered, tried to get at Shane's mouth again for another kiss.

“Knock it off.” Shane muttered, annoyed as he pulled back.

Dixon flinched away, looking down again, but Shane relented a little bit. He leaned forward again so that Dixon could press against him, tuck his head into the curve of Shane's shoulder while his hips humped forward in jerky motions, desperate for more contact. Shane had Dixon’s cock in his hand then, and Dixon started making all sorts of little sounds. Whimpers that were mostly muffled into Shane's clavicle, sharp a gasp when Shane flicked his thumb across the leaking tip. 

“Noisy little fucker, ain’tcha?”

Shane leant forward over Dixon, braced himself against his free hand so that he could look down at the shivering form. He couldn't see all that much, mostly just the arch of Dixon’s back where he had leaned forward away from the wall to press close to Shane. The knobs of Dixon’s spine pressed up against the shirt in sharp relief, his shoulders quaking with every shiver that passed through his body.

“Yeah, you want it bad.” Shane murmured down into the soft curve of his ear.

But despite the fact that the he was all but begging Shane to keep jerking him off, Dixon wasn't really touching Shane back.  _ Selfish _ . Sure, Dixon’s body was pressed as close to Shane as it could be, all hard angles digging in the worst places. But Dixon’s hands were held stiff and awkward by his sides. Shane sped up a little, gave Dixon a nice hard stroke from root to tip. Dixon gasped and his hands finally unclenched, stuttered by his sides for a second before they flew up to grasp at Shane's wide shoulders. 

Shane felt more than he heard Dixon moan as he came, coating Shane's hand with spunk. Dixon’s bitten nails dig burning half moons into the hard muscle of Shane's back, and the bright flash of pain made Shane's mouth twist. For a minute or so all that Shane could hear was the bandsaw buzz of the rain coming down on the roof and Dixon’s rough breathing. Then, Shane’s impatience finally got the better of him.

With a growl, he spun Dixon around, pressed him up against the wall of the garage in the same motion as he shoved the dirty jeans and underwear down around his knees. Dixon, still slack jawed and stupid from having just gotten off, barely got his arms up in time to prevent his face from smacking the plywood. Shane caught Dixon’s eyes for a second, wide and wet and blue, and then Dixon hid his face as he tucked his head between where his forearms were braced on the wall. He was breathing hard, shaking a little, but Shane didn’t miss how Dixon tried to spread his legs, move his feet further apart even though his pants were tangled around his knees.

Shane's fingers were still slick with come, and he briefly considered making Dixon lick his hand clean before he changed his mind, reached down to rub his wet fingertips over Dixon’s asshole. The tight muscle clenched and fluttered as he stroked against it, and Shane moaned even louder than Dixon did when he sunk his first two fingers into the smaller man's body without preamble.

Dixon was scorching hot inside, unbelievably tight around Shane's fingers. Shane groaned as his dick throbbed in his jeans, and he pressed himself back up against Dixon’s body as Shane fingered him open, rubbed his hard cock against Dixon’s hip. Dixon was so tense, skinny body trembling like a live wire as Shane stroked him open.

“Fuck, Dixon” Shane panted in his ear, nibbling a little at the shell, running his tongue over soft skin in between whispers. “God, you're tighter that I thought you'd be. Bet you take it so fuckin’ sweet…”

Turned out, Shane was right. All of Dixon’s little gasps, his high pitched whimpers after Shane got his dick wet with a little extra spit and pushed into his slick hole - Dixon did take it sweet. Shane was too caught up to think about doing it safe, even though he had condoms in his wallet. It just felt too good, nailing raw into where Dixon was wet and tight and so, so hot inside. 

The smell of sex and the booze in his blood and the hurt, needy little sounds that Dixon kept making - it all made Shane's head spin. And maybe he got a little bit carried away towards the end, got a little rough as he gripped Dixon’s hips hard and knocked him forward against the wall as he fucked into him. Shane bit hard at one bony shoulder through the thin shirt, where the mark of it wouldn't show, getting the fabric wet with spit as Dixon cried out and jerked against him. 

Shane could feel his balls getting tight, and he reached around to find that Dixon was hard again. Or maybe he was still hard from the first time Shane had gotten him off. Either way, all it took was a few quick jerks for Dixon to come a second time. He shivered all over as he came, shouted out hoarsely as his shoulders hunched up around his ears and his ass clenched tight around Shane's cock. 

That was all it took to push him over the edge. Shane spilled hot and wet into Dixon’s tight little hole, grinding into him balls deep as the aftershocks curled Shane's toes and got him breathing out hard through his mouth as he pulled out. He gave Dixon a friendly slap on the ass as he took a step back, ran a rough hand over his face to try and get his head straight. Dixon was still pressed up against the wall where Shane had shoved him. The rain had stopped some time when they were fucking, and Dixon was breathing so hard and loud that it seemed to echo in the sudden silence.

Shane had never really taken his pants off, so it was just a matter of tucking his softening dick away and zipping back up. His belt buckle jangled a little as he went to cinch it tight, and Shane didn’t miss the way that Dixon shivered all over at the clank of metal on metal.

“No way I've got another round in me, so don't even try it.” Shane’s chuckle turned into a yawn and he stretched his arms out above his head, trying to work the ache out of his shoulders. “You weren't half bad though Dixon, if you ever wanna go again you know where I am.”

Shane snagged the abandoned beers off the floor, taking a minute to leer at Dixon as he carefully hitched his pants back up over his hips. Dixon wasn't too chatty after fucking, apparently - didn't seem to even want to look at Shane from the way he kept his face turned away, but Shane wasn't bothered. It wasn't like Shane was a big cuddler either, so he wouldn't hold it against him. 

Once Dixon had finally zipped his jeans, Shane reached out and tapped the button on the wall. The garage door clattered open, rolling up to reveal the damp world outside - water dripping from the trees and the beginnings of the sunset, vibrant oranges and purples that glowed off the empty clouds.

“You know how t’get home from here.”

If Dixon looked at him then, Shane didn’t notice. He was already stumbling back into his house, locking the door behind him. 

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr ](http://www.bingitoff.Tumblr.com)  
>   
> 
> Part 3 will be Rick/Daryl again and it will have an optimistic ending I promise. I just had to get some of the misery and suffering out of the way first


End file.
